


Dance

by Kitkat12323



Category: FE3H, Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, death of a character, i want to make a modern day AU with him, i wish we could have supported with him, non-canon, slight AU, some day I’ll get to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 11:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkat12323/pseuds/Kitkat12323
Summary: Byleth takes on a sparring partner.





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted on my tumblr a while back. Though I’d post it here too. I still want to support with him.

It started with an offhand comment made by her father. “You should keep yourself sharp for battle. Maybe take up sparring with someone.”

So Byleth sought out someone to spar with. Felix was willing to spar with her, but he was a student who needed to focus on his studies. She didn’t want to accidentally injure him either. She wasn’t sure what Rhea would think if she accidentally sent a student to the infirmary.

“Maybe ask Jeritza to spar. I heard he is an exceptional combatant,” Flayn suggested when she heard Byleth’s dilemma.

If she was honest, Jeritza wasn’t very approachable. Even the students would often comment about his dislike of small talk. The few times Byleth had greeted him, he had dismissed her just as quickly. He always said he wasn’t looking for friend..

Finally finding the man, she approached him. “Good morning, Jeritza,” she greeted.

The teacher stared at her blankly. “Is there something you need?”

“Actually I have a request. Would you be willing to spar with me?” She decided to get to the point. It would lessen the likelihood of him dismissing her so quickly.

“I don’t have time for idle bonding if that’s why you’re asking.” His interest did seem to be piqued despite his words.

She quickly shook her head. “I just wish to hone my abilities. You are one of the best combatants here. I don’t want to injure one of my students either, so this might be a good solution.”

The corner of his lip curled up. Studying her, he nodded. “Fine. Meet me at the training grounds before dinner.”

He abruptly left. Byleth wasn’t sure if she had just offended him, but she did get him to agree. She really couldn’t tell with this mysterious man.  
———  
While the students and faculty had dinner, Byleth slipped by the dining hall to the training grounds. There weren’t many people around since most were gathered for supper.

Arriving at her destination, she saw Jeritza waiting for her. In his hands he held two dull training swords. Without a word he tossed the sword to her, which she swiftly caught.

“I guess we’ll spar until we get tired or one of us lands a hit?” She watched as he settled in a stance.

He snorted. “As if you could touch me.” With that he launched at her.

Byleth found herself immediately being pushed to defend herself. Jeritza swiftly and brutally attacked her. Without stopping, his attacks continued to rain down on her.

She was surprised by his sudden show of force. He continued to push her across the training ground. Metal met metal and echoed in the night. Her arms were starting to feel sore from continually blocking his attacks. He put a lot of strength behind each swing.

Then one slight slip and the dull sword sliced her exposed side. Byleth winced and stepped to the side. Though the sword was dull, the contact stung and she felt a small trickle of blood. 

“…!” Despite having the first blow, Jeritza continued to attack. She kept her defense up. He moved with a swift and deadly elegance.

His eyes glinted with something akin to enjoyment. Byleth wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep blocking him without another wound.

Gripping her sword tightly, she swung it with all her might, and the force of their swords clashing rang loudly. Both swords slipped out of their hands and flew across the area. They landed on the ground with a clang.

Breathing heavily, Byleth pressed her hand against the wound. Jeritza seemed to come out of whatever spell he was under as he straightened up.

“It seems you are not much of a challenge,” he mused aloud. He sounded a bit disappointed.

Her brows drew together. “We stop when the first blow was landed.”

Dismissing her comment, he brushed past her. “Go see Manuela to treat those. She’ll scold me later,” he muttered.

Glancing down at her wound, she noticed that she had several cuts on her arms. During the fight, she had only felt the one from her side. Her adrenaline had been rushing that she had completely ignored any pain. Jeritza completely overwhelmed her. She had fought many thugs and bandits before, but no one with his level of skill.

Sighing, she headed off to her room.  
———  
A week passed with lessons, grading papers, and practice. Byleth finally had time to breath. Leaving her room, she made her way through the monastery looking for the masked teacher.

Spotting him near the fishing dock, she approached him. “Afternoon, Jeritza.”

“Do you need something, Professor?” His mouth was pressed into a thin line.

“I would like to spar with you again if you don’t mind.” She knew he was looking at the bandages on her side and arms.

“You already lost to me. The results would just be the same,” he dismissed.

An eyebrow went up. “I don’t believe you can predict the future. I’ve learned a lot from our first spar. Eventually I’ll be able to best you.”

His dark eyes observed her. “A bold declaration. Your ego will be the death of you.”

She shook her head. “It’s not ego but experience. One will eventually learn the tricks of the trade if there is enough observation.”

Jeritza’s eyes narrowed under the mask. “I will see you at the training grounds. Same time.” He left before hearing her confirmation.

True to her words, she stood victorious with the dull blade pointed at his neck. Though her face remained blank, a sense of triumph filled her. This time she had an idea of his movements. His relentless attacks did not surprise her. She used his favor for going on the offense against him.

Violet eyes met her own. There was a fire in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. The corner of his lip was curled up. A thin line of blood dripped from his neck where she nicked him. She pulled the blade away and offered her hand to him.

He stood up without her help. “It seems you’re skills have improved.”

“A compliment? I’m flattered.” She gave him a mock bow.

“Take your victory, Professor. You will not win next time.” Brushing dirt off his clothes, he strolled away.

She couldn’t help but smile. It seemed she would be sparring with him more often.  
———  
Every week or so they spared during dinner. Though they didn’t keep score aloud, Byleth had mentally kept count. It seemed that they were evenly matched enough that there was no predicting who would win or lose. During their spars Byleth learned more about the way Jeritza fought. He had strength in his attacks, yet it was calculated. He was graceful and quick on his feet. There was also a sense of enjoyment in the way he fought. Even more so when either of them drew blood. He reveled in fighting, and that part of him that he hid made her curious,

Each time they would both leave with a few cuts or bruises. Byleth treated her own wounds as she wasn’t sure how Manuela might take to seeing her injured so often. Some students would ask about her bandages, and she often made some excuse or another. Most decided not to continue to pester her on the matter.  
———  
Two months passed and Byleth had found herself settling into life as a professor. Yawning she waved to the students as they left her class. If someone had told her she would be teaching, she wouldn’t have believed them. Walking down the halls, the chattering of students and faculty filled the air.

“Oh, Professor!” Mercedes waved to Byleth as she approached.

“Afternoon, Mercedes. How was class with Seteth?” she asked. The blond fell into step with her.

“Professor Seteth is very detailed in his lectures. Though there are times where I lose focus. I’m looking forward to your class next week.” She smiled warmly.

They stopped at the dining hall. “Do you want to grab lunch?” Byleth hadn’t eaten with her students in a while. It was always nice to chat with them. She was always reminded that they were fairly close in age whenever she sat down to talk.

“Of course. Annie and I are looking forward to the dessert for today.” Mercedes led the way to a table.

“So, Professor,” Annette took a bite of her pie, “do you have any siblings?”

She shook her head. “I’m an only child. I don’t know if having a sibling would have been nice considering the life a mercenary lives…” Her father had never found love after her mother as far as she knew. “What about you?”

“I wish I had siblings. They would have made life a lot more fun!” Annette sighed.

“I…I had a younger half-brother. He…I don’t know what happened to him.” Mercedes looked down as she poked her cake. The atmosphere was a bit too gloomy, so Byleth quickly changed the topic. Everything went back to normal. Mercedes visibly relaxed as they continued their light conversation.

Later in the evening Byleth went to the training grounds for her sparring session with Jeritza. He was leaning against a wall waiting for her. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught up with a few students.”

Arms crossed, he seemed to be in deep thought. Finally he spoke. “Do you know Mercedes?”

“She is one of my students in the Blue Lions. Why do you ask?” This was a first for Byleth. Usually they started sparring the moment they met. Jeritza wasn’t a man of idle conversation.

Pushing off the wall, he strode over to her. “Are you two close?” He hovered over her, eyes filled with something she couldn’t describe.

“I care for all my students if that’s what your asking. I think we have a good relationship.” Her brows knitted together. “You never answered my question, Jeritza. Why are you so interested in her?”

He merely shrugged before walking over to the barrel of training swords. She didn’t expect to get an answer from him. Yet she was brimming with curiosity. “How about we make this sparring session a little more interesting?”

He paused in swinging the sword. “What do you wager?”

“If I can beat you in a minute, you do something for me. If I can’t, I’ll do one thing for you. It can be anything.” She adjusted her grip on the sword.

“Anything I want? That leaves you open for a lot, Professor.” His eyes were dark as he took steps toward her again. “You should be careful on what it is you offer.”

She wasn’t afraid. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

Immediately their swords clashed. Byleth pushed him on the defense this time. As her attacks came down, Jeritza was driven back. He liked to go on the offense more often than not. This time she wasn’t giving him any room to do so. As they danced, a strange smile was tugging at the corner of his lips. There were times when she saw this smile come out. It seemed to only trigger when he was truly enjoying the fight.

Suddenly he feigned left and she missed. She dodged to the side as his blade came inches from striking her side. Now he was pushing her back. Byleth gritted her teeth as she blocked his sword. He drove her to the wall and she quickly rolled away as his sword met stone. Turning, she had her sword inches from his neck. Yet he had his sword inches from her own neck.

“Well, it seems we’re at an impasse, Professor,” he mused, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Seems so. Draw?” Her eyes narrowed as she waited for him to make a move. They both slowly started lowering their swords. Then he ducked and struck out. She had expected his movement, and blocked it and shoved him back. He took a few steps back and she took her opening. Knocking the sword out of his hand, she pointed the dull blade under his chin. The training field was silent as they both breathed heavily. 

He held his hands up in surrender. “Well done.”

Pulling the sword away, she nodded. “As for my request, I’ll save it for later.”

Jeritza nodded before turning away from her. “You best turn that request in sooner rather than later.”  
———  
Byleth’s heart pumped with fear. Her students were fighting for their lives. Though they had fought Lonato, this was different. The blood lust in these people was strong. Despite battling in a crypt, the students at least were taking care to heed her advice.

Her dark green eyes were focused on the man in covered in armor. The black skull of his helmet made it impossible for her to see his face. Yet she felt that he was staring right at her. He seemed interested but bored. Hands tightening on the hilt of her sword, she ran at him. But the moment she got to him, he vanished.

“Professor! They’re retreating further into the crypt!” Dimitri’s words brought her back to the present. She needed to focus on the matter at hand than run after masked knights.

The events ended with her retrieving a sword that glowed upon her contact. Even stranger Rhea allowed her to keep it. The Sword of the Creator was no mere weapon. Somehow the archbishop was fine with leaving it in the hands of a mercenary. She had to agree with Seteth’s reaction when Rhea left it to her. Still there wasn’t much Byleth could do but accept the sword. She would keep it safe for as long as it was needed.

Coming to their usual sparring place, a single eyebrow went up as Jeritza observed her. “You actually came after all that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”She was a bit tired from before, but she rationalized that she still had enough energy to spar.

“You don’t look like you can even stand, let alone hold a sword.”

“I didn’t realize you cared, Jeritza,” she teased.

He scoffed. “I don’t care about your well being. I care that this sparring session will be a waste if you’re not at top form.”

“Always so kind. Honestly I can’t decide who is worse. You or Felix.” Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes. “I just need a moment.” Sliding down, she sat on the ground.

The silence that stretched on made her wonder if he had left. “Go to bed.” That answered her question.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me…rest.” She waved off his order. As her breathing steadied, her mind drifted off.

She suddenly woke. Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder rumbled. Feeling disoriented, she realized she was in her bed. Byleth didn’t remember going to her room. Still dressed in her clothes, but missing her shoes and armor, she returned to sleep as exhaustion set in once more.

“Thank you,” she said when she saw him the next day in their usual spot.

He didn’t meet her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swung the practice lance with ease.

“Nevertheless, thank you.” She smiled to herself. “I didn’t know you were proficient in the lance too. I’ve always thought of picking it up myself. But I’ve never had the time.”

Jeritza did a few more practice moves before setting the lance back in its place. “There’s much you don’t know, Professor.”

“Byleth. Since I call you Jeritza, it’s only fair if you address me by my name as well.” He eyed her for a moment before picking up his training sword.  
———  
Jeralt had died.

For the first time in her life Byleth felt tears falling down her face. Even as the rain had fallen, she knew the water that fell were her own tears. She had tried to save him. Yet he still met the same fate. An overflow of emotions erupted inside her, and she could only cry. Her father was the one constant in her life.

Despite hearing the whispers that she lacked emotions, Jeralt still loved her. Even as she started to learn how to express herself more while at the academy, Jeralt was always there. He could read her moods so easily.

And now he was gone. Forever.

Holed up in her room, Byleth refused to see anyone. Though his body had already been laid to rest a few days ago, she mourned. Classes were canceled. Students tried to express their condolences, but she hid away. With all the power she had, she couldn’t save him. Her grief was strong and wouldn’t let her go.

Finally, when the pain in her stomach became unbearable, Byleth left her room. It was the dead of night. Only the guards were out patrolling the area. Byleth easily snuck by them and to the kitchen. She filled a bucket used for water with apples and bread. Then she made her way to the training grounds.

It was quiet and the moon hung low. The days had been sunny and bright as if the world had already moved on. Byleth couldn’t bring herself to move past her father’s death. There was a hole in her that ached.

As she ate, her mind wandered. What would she do now? Jeralt was gone so there was no one to lead her. Her life at the academy would eventually come to an end. Would she rejoin her father’s mercenary group again? Or just go off on her own? Did she even want to be alone now that he wasn’t there to support her?

So many questions and so few answers. “Byleth?” Her head jerked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected anyone to be around at this time. Let alone Jeritza.

“W-what are you doing here?” she asked. Her voice was raspy and her mouth felt like sandpaper.

Eyes swollen and dark circles, she was a sight to see. The masked man hovered over her. “I should be asking you the same.” His eyes darted to the stolen food. “But I already have my answer.”

Clutching the bucket to her chest, she took a bite of bread. He silently took a seat beside her. Swallowing, her lower lip quivered. “Is it always like this?”

“I’m not the best person to ask,” he answered. “I don’t…I’m sorry.”

Setting the bucket aside, she felt her eyes prick with more tears. “I never cried. Even when I hurt myself, I never shed a tear.” She rubbed her eyes. “I hate it.”

Looking up at him, there was something oddly human about his expression for once. Jeritza hesitated before reaching out for her. He wrapped her arm around her back and pulled her so she leaned into his side. “I may not know how it feels, but I know it’s best to let it out. Sometimes it’s better when you have someone else to lean on.”

Biting her lip, she allowed her tears to fall silently. She clutched on to the front of his shirt as she cried in his shoulder. The simple gesture meant a lot coming from a man who did not desire friendship. He allowed her to cry without a word. The warmth of his touch was the only comfort.  
———  
“Why do you wear that mask?” She turned to him after placing the dull blade back.

“Why do you ask?” He frowned.

Rocking on the back of her heels, she looked at him blankly. Always answering a question with a question. “Are you hiding your face because your a wanted criminal? Or do you have an embarrassing birthmark?”

Jeritza stepped away from her. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Would you stop me if I try to remove it?” She moved toward him. Standing in front of him, she reached up. Her fingers brushed under the edge of the mask. She paused allowing him time to stop her.

His hand came up and loosely ran through her mint green hair. “I preferred the original color.” He stepped back and her hands fell away. “You should return back to the ball.”

Byleth shook her head. “I think I’ll stay out here a little longer. It’s a beautiful night. That and I don’t think I can take another dance stumbling around.”

Jeritza made no effort to leave his spot against the wall opposite to her. The Goddess Tower was empty despite the superstition that surrounded it. It seemed no students would be making promises for the future tonight.

“Do you think the rumors are true? About the Goddess Tower?” She looked around. There was nothing “magical” about the tower.

He snorted. “Don’t tell me you believe those fairy tales?”

“I don’t know what to believe. There’s a lot that I can’t explain.” Crossing her arms, she glanced back at him. “If it did work, would you make the wish?”

He met her gaze. “I’m sure the goddess would not grant me any wish.”

Byleth shook her head. “It’s an interesting thought I think.” Looking away, she returned to her thoughts.

After a while Jeritza coughed. “You’re humming.”

Blinking, she realized she had been humming. “I guess I got that from the music at the ball…”

“You may have two left feet, but at least you can carry a beat,” he mused.

The corner of her mouth twitched up. “I’m sorry if my horrible dancing offends anyone. Ballroom dancing was not a requirement to being a mercenary. Can you dance?”

“Of course. It’s a requirement all nobles are forced to learn from childhood.” He clicked his tongue. 

“I can’t really imagine you dancing. Though the way you fight is like dancing…” she trailed off as he watched her intently. “Will you teach me some?”

“No. I will never dance with you or anyone else.” His eyes narrowed. “As you said, fighting is like dancing. Just better.”

Byleth chuckled. “I guess that means we have danced before despite your disdain for dancing. I guess we should return to the ball before anyone misses us.”

Suddenly he moved toward her. Standing over her, he tilted her chin up. Staring into his eyes, a mix of emotions swirled in them. None she could properly place.

“I will dance with you one last time. Don’t die on me until then,” Jeritza whispered.

She reached up and gently brushed the edge of his mask. Eyes locked with his, she slowly lifted it away. He closed his eyes as she pulled the white mask off and allowed it to fall to the ground.

Standing on her tiptoes, she marveled at how soft his hair felt under her fingers. As she closed her eyes, she wondered why the color of his hair suddenly reminded her of someone else’s.  
———  
The Death Knight. What did she even know about him? Nothing. Yet his fighting style was familiar. As Caspar fought him, against her orders and Mercedes’s pleas, she felt an inkling of familiarity. 

The way he moved so swiftly and elegantly despite wearing heavy armor brought back memories of the past. Though he merely blocked Caspar’s attacks, he moved with such fluid motions. Byleth was sure she knew him from somewhere. But something was holding her back from facing the truth.

When Mercedes called out to him as her brother, she felt like things started to fit in place. She wanted to deny it all, but the truth was there. So, when the Death Knight handed something to Mercedes and ran off, Byleth gave chase on her own horse.

She ignored the cries of the others. She needed to know. He glanced back and forced his horse to move faster. She caught up to him, however, and the horses raced side to side.

“Stop!” she ordered. He ignored her and continued pushing the horse forward.

Doing something reckless, she threw herself off the side of her horse and at him. Her body collided with cold armor. Her chin smarted with the contact. The force and surprise sent him stumbling off the side of his horse. The two tumbled to the ground.

Rolling to her feet, she ran at him. Before he could get up, she was upon him. Dagger digging under the helmet, she pressed her free hand on his chest. Hovering over him, his helmet wasn’t as fearsome to her.

“Why? Jeritza I know it’s you.” Gritting her teeth, she held herself back. She wanted to scream and shout at him. But she held her tongue.

He made no move to push her off. “You’re alive… I thought you had gotten yourself killed before our last dance.” Despite his voice coming out different from under his helmet, she could now recognize traces of his true voice.

“You want to kill me,” she stated flatly.

“I wish to fight you to the death. You’re a worthy fighter. Our sparring sessions were only a taste of the real fight we would have.”

She shook her head. Confused yet still angry. “I don’t want to fight you, Jeritza. If you want to die battling, then do so at someone else’s hands.” She pulled away and climbed off him. “You still have a chance to come with us.”

Standing up he looked off in the distance. “I am beyond saving. I have left all that made me human and have become death.”

Turning to him, she pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re still very human. What you did for Mercedes proves it. You still hold some attachment to her.”

Striding over to his horse, he mounted. “The next time we meet one of us will die.”

She watched as he rode off. Nothing was right.  
———  
Despite her adamant desire not to fight him, the next time they met, they danced one last time. It was no sparring match. He aimed to kill. Byleth could find no words to say to him. The battle continued as their weapons clashed. Both moved and struck with deadly grace. Their movements were fluid and synchronized. It seemed that they were at a stalemate.

One calculated move, and she managed to hit him. Yet she didn’t attack to kill immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Yet his wound was enough to slowly bleed him to death. He would refuse any healing even if they tried.

Mercedes ran over to him. “Emile!” Kneeling, she pulled off his helmet. “Oh, Emile… I’m so sorry.”

Byleth turned away and allowed her to grieve. She felt her eyes sting but quickly blinked away any developing tears. Keeping her expression neutral, she waited.

“Professor…” Mercedes came to her side. “I think we should leave. Unless you have some business to take care of?”

Nodding, she gave her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. “I’ll be right there.”

Once Mercedes made her way back to the group, Byleth made her way to Jeritza. He lay there bleeding out. His breathing was heavy and raspy. Kneeling at his side, she brushed a few bloody strands of hair from his face.

“I want to fulfill my request from our deal,” she murmured.

He struggled to keep his eyes open. His mouth twisted into something of a smile. “…B-Byleth…”

“I want you to live. Not for me. Not for Mercedes. For yourself. Give yourself a chance, Jeritza. Please…”

Lifting his hand up, his clawed gauntlet brushed her cheek. “…I’m glad…we got to dance one…last…time. I wanted to teach…lance to you.”

Ignoring the cold metal, she clutched his hand. “You can still teach me how to fight with a lance. You have so much you can do beyond this.” 

Droplets fell on his face. The tears she had held back would no longer stay. “Don’t cry. I don’t deserve…tears.”

For the second time in her life, Byleth cried. Both times it was for someone she cared about. Both times it was for someone who was dying. Would she only ever cry under these circumstances?

She removed his gauntlet and laced her fingers with his. Jeritza’s hand was warm against her own. She stayed at his side until his hand grew cold. When his breathing no longer came out in ragged gasps, she let him go.

Despite everything they had to continue. The war was still not over. Until everything came to an end there was no time to rest. Rejoining her former students, Byleth set forward as the sun came up.  
———  
Standing on the training grounds, Byleth gripped the lance in her hand. There were others training together or with dummies.

“Are you okay?” her sparring partner inquired.

Byleth nodded. “Once more.” Readjusting her grip, she readied herself. She launched into a new dance.


End file.
